


Last Kiss

by SherlockLovesJohnPassItOn



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, OOC, Songfic, Teen John Watson, Teen Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockLovesJohnPassItOn/pseuds/SherlockLovesJohnPassItOn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock went out on an evening a week before John gets shipped out for the war, but things turn bad after John takes his eyes off the road for a second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I got the inspiration from the song 'Last Kiss' but J. Frank Wilson. Don't hate me.

The radio was softly playing in the background as John was driving home with an arm around Sherlock after spending an evening together at the local diner and  movie house. John was to be sent to bootcamp to begin training for the upcoming war in Vietnam and he and Sherlock decided it best for them to spend anytime they could together.

John squinted at the road ahead of him, rain clouds drew in earlier that night and it has been pouring ever since. The roads were slippery and John could barely see anything.

"Damn this rain," John grumbled, Sherlock lifted his head and stared at his boyfriend, cracking a smile and chuckling to himself.

"What?" John quickly looked at Sherlock with a smile. He loved the sound of Sherlock laughing and loved the look of Sherlock's smile. It made him feel warm and Sherlock more attractive. He always wanted him to wear a smile on his face.

"Nothing," Sherlock continued chuckling, "it's just... you're cute when you get frustrated, especially with little things like the rain."

Raising an eyebrow,  John kept his focus on the blurred road ahead of him, "cute? John Watson is not  _ cute _ ."

"John Watson is most definitely cute, whether he's getting mad over the rain or when he couldn't figure out the answers to his maths homework."

"Hey! Mr. Smith has is out for me. He doesn't like me after finding us in the janitor's closet," John couldn't help but crack a grin at the memory.

It was only a few months ago but it felt like yesterday. Having Sherlock's Cupid's bow lips pressed hungrily against his own whilst Sherlock’s hands kept him in an iron grip against his body. John had his hands busy, running through Sherlock's dark curls and panting his name softly against his lips. The tiny closet was crowded and cluttered, but it didn't bother them, the closeness made it all the better. John even remembered Mr. Smith's face full of surprise, which quickly changed into disgust. He couldn't hold back a laugh just remembering it. Sherlock must have read his mind because he began laughing as well.

For a second, John wasn't paying attention to the road. Turning a curve, he didn't see the stalled car in the middle of the road until he felt the car crash and sound of Sherlock’s scream before blacking out.

*

John woke up to the cold rain hitting his face. He tried to get up but his entire body protested. His mouth tasted of metal and he felt something warm running down the side of his face. When John managed to open his eyes, he was blinded by flashing lights; he quickly blinked and got his eyes to focus. There were people standing around him and others running everywhere.  _ What happened _ , he thought before everything came rushing through his mind. He crashed, but where was Sherlock?

Frantically, John stood up, ignoring the pain and looked around at the scene. His dad's car was totaled, the entire front car crumpled against the car it crashed into. Windows were broken and there was blood everywhere. John eyes filled with tears and he saw Sherlock's still body surrounded by medics and on lookers.

"Sherlock!" he cried, limping his way quickly to his boyfriend's side.

Guilt and dread washed over him. He should have paid more attention. He should have kept his eyes on the road. This was all his fault.

John pushed his way through the crowd and froze when he got to Sherlock. His face was paler than usual and cut up from the broken glass, his perfect Cupid's bow lips that he loved to kiss were stained red, and his soft, dark curly hair was wet with blood that pooled next to him.

"Sherlock," John whispered as he fell down to his knees whilst grabbing his lover's cold hand, the same hand that would hold his and play beautiful melodies on his violin for John to listen. The world around him faded away and it was just Sherlock and him.

Sherlock's eyes slowly opened and looked up at John. John stared back at Sherlock, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm so sorry Sherlock," he sobbed. Sherlock's own eyes began to water at the sight of his strong soldier, always warm and filled with smiles, shivering and crying.

"Stop crying John," Sherlock managed to choke out, but John continued crying, "hold me close, John, I'm cold."

John carefully lifted Sherlock into his arms, one hand behind Sherlock's head, keeping it elevated from the cold, hard ground and the other brushing against Sherlock's cheekbones and lips.

"You're gonna be okay Sherlock," John rambled, "you're gonna be fine! You're gonna go to the hospital and recover, I'll go to war and come back to you. We'll get married and run away. We'll get away from everything. We'll live in a cottage and you can keep bees  in the backyard whilst I write stories. You'll die in a warm bed when we’re old and wrinkly, but not here. You can't die here!" John didn't know if he was trying to convince Sherlock or himself.

Sherlock smiled weakly, "give me a kiss, John," he choked, "one last kiss."

Leaning down, John placed a salty kiss onto Sherlock's cold lips. The kiss felt like forever but it only lasted a few seconds.

"You be good, John. We both know I'm not going to make it," Sherlock coughed and gasped, "You have to be strong for me John. Remember that I love you, alright? I love you." Sherlock coughed harder.

"I love you too Sherlock, please don't go," John sobbed louder, "please!"

"Goodbye John," Sherlock gasped, looking at John before the life drained out of his eyes and his heart thumped one last time.

John screamed out into the heavens for Sherlock to come back, the crowd crying along with the boy who lost the love of his life.

"Why did you have to take him!" John shouted up at the cloudy sky, the rain pelting down on the crying boy's face like bullets, but he didn't seem to care, "you have plenty of angels! Why did you have to take mine!"

John would never forget that night. He woke up to nightmares of Sherlock dying in his arms every night until he went off to bootcamp. John always spoke to Sherlock, commenting on things he did as if Sherlock were there with him. The conversations were always one sided, but John imagined what Sherlock would say and how he would react.

Months later, John was out with his team looking for fallen soldiers in the jungle of Vietnam, he strayed away from the group where he was shot in the shoulder by an unknown shooter. He was found by a member of his team and sent to the medic's tent where he was cared for. John grew severely ill after his wound got infected.

John was reunited with Sherlock weeks later.

 

 


End file.
